The Puzzle That Made Love
by SkyKite
Summary: As if love wasn't hard enough to find in High School, try being the quiet girl everybody assumes is new. That's me, and mind you I've been with the same class of students for years. Ever been in love? I have. Ever been confessed to? The "new" girl wouldn't know... Now, have you ever had mixed feelings between your crush and his brother? You'll soon see I'm sorting all that out.
1. Chapter 1

**AN: Haven't been on this site for a while, and thought of posting a little story that suddenly popped into my head. Hope those who read it enjoy and reviews are welcomed thanks! **

_Disclaimer: I own none of the Inuyasha characters._

_**Chapter 1:**_

_**Locker Mishap**_

It was late in the afternoon, I was unsure of the precise time; unlike most teens my age I have long been neglected the quirks of owning a cell phone, and when you're a bit scatterbrained like me you're used to watches coming and going. Even if I wasn't able to tell the time it wasn't important, all that mattered to me was doing what I had to do before after school hours ended, and judging by the deep hues of purples and pinks entering the once sunny blue sky that was going to be very soon.

So I took a deep breath and set my eyes on locker 109, it was a beautiful locker; mind you every shoe locker looked no different from its neighbor but considering this was _his_ locker I thought it beautiful. He was the reason I was here, he was the reason I was about to perform this embarrassing task.

I shouldn't be doing this…but I'm running out of options…yet this isn't how it's supposed to work...but it's the only way to tell him how I feel…NO! I shouldn't have to resort to _this_ to express my feelings…but then again I'm hopelessly lost when it comes to talking to other people. I began wondered what bizarre force recently wormed its way into my brain and left me with the comical idea of me possibly talking to me long-time crush. I wanted to laugh for I must have forgotten who I was.

I'm a first year freshman here at Clover High, just your normal school located in Tokyo, and I your normal school girl. My name is Rin Kogore; average, not so popular, not so overly smart, 'quiet as a mouse' Rin Kogore, and I had a mission to carry out. The nonexistent watch on my wrist was ticking fast, so I sighed and shook my head to put it back into focus as my eyes settled on the crisp pink envelope nestled in the grip of my two hands.

Today is the day, today is the day I'm going to confess my feelings to Inuyasha!

Inuyasha Rumitashi, otherwise known as the troublemaker of Clover High; the type of guy to leave a trail of detention slips and spray paint in his wake, and to add on he had a temper that was set to explode at any given time throughout the day. He was also the type of guy who ended up getting stuck with clean up duty after school. While other students went off to their routine clubs Principle Myoga gave strict orders for Inuyasha to clean up his own mess. I know this because I've often seen him wallow in his punishment as he scrubbed way at his own graffiti, not that I follow his every move or anything…

Anyway, he was the "bad boy" and the few friends I have could hardly fathom what a girl like me saw in him. To be completely honest I have yet to pinpoint the exact reason myself, however it wasn't what I saw it's what I felt. That tickle in the stomach, the pitter patter in my heart, and the heat in my face it was all there; each and every time I saw him.

"Here goes," I murmur as my hand reaches forward to open the little square door. I've never done this before; putting a love letter in a shoe locker, I wanted to scold myself for lack of creativity. I may as well have requested we meet me on the roof like every other cliché story line I've ever come across in a book. Of all the options though, this seemed like the best fit to my quiet personality. I didn't need to say a thing for my message to get across, and if my feelings weren't returned I already stated in my letter that I'd appreciate if he'd simply go about his life ignoring my existence to show his disinterest; this way I'm sparred the humiliation of a face to face rejection. Weak, I know, but in my opinion being ignored by my crush wouldn't put too much of a damper on my day considering I'm already just another piece of the wall to him.

Without a hint of hast in my actions I slowly open the door, and with a sudden gasp I stare at the few surprises awaiting my inspection. Letters…upon letter….upon letters all gathered in a little locker staring me down as if challenging me to try and make room for my measly pink envelope. I couldn't believe this. "He already has secret admirers!?"

There was no doubt; that had to be where all these letters came from, what other explanation could it be? Now don't let my surprise mislead your thoughts on my crush, for Inuyasha truly was handsome, handsome enough to gain the attention of a few girls especially. The problem was he was seen as the delinquent of the school, and for that reason not too many girls kept their eyes batted his way. Perhaps I was wrong, perhaps my heart wasn't the only heart mesmerized by his rebellious ways. If that were true than expressing my feelings suddenly became much harder knowing I had a huge line of competition in front of me, and it wasn't as simple as cutting in front of them. The only perk I had was my envelope was pink while everyone else's was white, I guess I'm gifted with a small sense of creativity after all.

I needed to calm down; after all none of the letters seemed to have been opened which was a good sign. I have to remember the type of guy Inuyasha is. For all I know these could just be a messy arrangement of detention slips and school complaints, however, there was only one way to find out.

Oh how I shouldn't! I was seriously crossing boundaries reading his mail; seriously what kind of a person does this, a person with no self-control that's who. I needed to know though; with all these letters I just had to know, more than anything, whether or not there was even any room in Inuyasha's heart to accept me when he may already have a girlfriend. By the amount of letters, he just may. The thought alone was enough to convince me to lift my arm.

With swift force I reached for the first envelope I could lay my fingers on, and tried my best to pull it out as fast as I could. Mind you I've never been very coordinated, so a part of me wasn't too surprised when I accidentally allowed the entire pile of letters to fall at my feet. Surprised, no, but that certainly didn't conceal my panic as I scurried onto my knees to gather them into my hands. That's when I heard a deep voice address me from behind.

"Any particular reason you've opened my locker?"

My body automatically froze, and I couldn't remember the last time I ever felt such a rush of fear race through my blood system, for that most definitely wasn't Inuyasha's voice. It was then that I took the chance to look up and noticed a pair of black leather loafers resting comfortably in the locker, absolutely not the simple tennis shoes I remember Inuyasha wearing after school hours…again, not that I followed.

Everything just seemed to click together from there, and suddenly it made a lot of sense as to the quantity of letters which, at the moment, were thoughtlessly grasped tightly in my arms. There was no mistaking my error at that moment; once I saw those shoes the cloud of dust had vanished from sight.

I gradually turned my head so as to enjoy my last few seconds of peace before my eyes met with the cold stare of the locker's true occupier. I was confused, terrified, and above all embarrassed to no end.

"Sesshomaru…" I said.

I couldn't believe I had opened the wrong locker! Again, I had never been very coordinated…

**AN: Hope you enjoyed, let me know if this little piece is worth continuing into something more. Thanks & have a great day!**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Just a shout out to all those who commented; I appreciate it! meghanmoo, Esperanza Lane, theuver, Taraah36, Starrilight-Hotary thanks for all the support. Lady Silverfox (sorry to disappoint but the 'Mating' thing isn't really my type of writing hope that doesn't discourage you from reading) thanks for the reviews everyone :) **

**Hope you all enjoy this chapter. **

_Disclaimer: I own none of the Inuyasha characters. _

_**The Puzzle that Made Love Chapter 2: **_

_**The Boy Known by Everyone**_

Sesshomaru Rumitashi; he's by far the most respected and well-known student in my school. President of both the senior class and the student council club, not to mention the captain of the school's tennis team; they would never have won the championships had it not been for him, or so I've heard. With neck-length tresses that were as damn near the color white as blonde could possibly get, and golden-brown eyes as piercing as the sharp ends of knifes (not to mention his striking muscled physique) it's no wonder he's every girl's target choice in a boyfriend.

I've never spoken to him before as you can well imagine; I was willing to bet the skirt off my thighs he didn't even know my name. He's the big senior and I the little freshman. His test scores are always topnotch, and I'm averagely in the middle. He's known by everyone, and well…I'm lucky enough to have friends that known my last name.

Needless to say, neither he nor I have much in common; he's just too far out of my league to even attempt at befriending. I didn't need to have straight A's to know how popular a guy he is. As far as me and popularity goes …well let's just say we've never seen eye to eye.

To me popularity was like staring at the peak of a large mountain and knowing right away that any attempt at climbing it will only leave me feeling hurt in the end (both mentally and physically)…so what was the point in even trying. It wasn't like that for him though, if you could only see his face in the halls as he embraces the crowd of students around him you'd know he had reached the top of that mountain, and I was more than ok with letting him have it.

"S-Sesshomaru," I mumbled under my breath; gawking at the beautiful student before me dressed in his after school tennis uniform; the standard shorts and polo shirt. He must have recently returned from practice, had I not been so entranced within his cold stare I would have paid more focus to his strong calf muscles, or the smooth way he carried his tennis jacket over his shoulder.

I could barely move under his impenetrable gaze, so I knew right then that I could kiss my chances of running away goodbye. "I-It's not what it looks like, I was just….um…."

I really suck at excuses! What's worse is I suck even more at lying, I couldn't tell a fib to save me life. I could say that I had thought this was my locker, but it was the middle of the school year who forgets their locker after that amount of time? Plus, my actual locker was on the opposite side of the room how would I explain that? Oh, and let's not forget I was also on my knees with his mail in my hands; I practically had the look of a thief written all over me.

I could feel the sweat gather on my forehead, including under my breasts which was a bit awkward to say the least. A short silence passed before any one of us spoke again, this time it was my captor who spoke with a tint of sarcasm in his tone.

"I see," he said as an elegant eyebrow rose, and his hands slowly moved their way from his pockets into the open locker over my head to pick up his shoes. I could see his eyes dart toward chest, and nearly yelped in shock to see that familiar sweat leave a small stain beneath the lower area of my bra, which to my luck seeped through my white buttoned down shirt. Now I hated myself for having given away my school jacket a few weeks back.

At that moment I couldn't help but think what a jerk he was being. I mean sure I was the one who accidentally opened his locker, a fact which I'm more than positive he's figured out seeing as how he was acting, but he doesn't have to tease me about it. To top it all off he especially did not have to point out my sweat stains. Did he not see how embarrassed I was before!? The nerve of him to add salt to an already bleeding wound.

That's Sesshomaru for you though; a big, absolutely breathtaking, all around drop dead gorgeous ASSHOLE!

He was popular yeah, and he was attractive, oh yeah, but despite his status and good looks he's always held his nose a tad too high for my liking. The guy walked around as though every surface he stepped on was a red carpet, and every student was just another fan waiting in line to greet him. No angel-like face was enough to make me see past his self-centered personality.

"It was…just a mix-up," I quietly countered, and not a soul on earth was capable of making me spill the name of the one I mixed up his locker with. I have my reasons, or reason, rather. Seeing as how the man who holds my heart and the devil before me share the same last name it's not a hard reason to guess.

Yes, Inuyasha and Sesshomaru are brothers, and to make the situation even more complicated they're hardly what you would call a loving family. Needless to say not too many people see them in the same room, and those that do witness fights that make UFC matches look like child's play. From what I've heard their family troubles date back all the way to when they were young, so making them see each other more as brothers rather than enemies was a lost cause at this point.

Sesshomaru must never know of my feelings for Inuyasha. True, since they weren't very close he could simply not care who crushes on his younger brother, but on the off-hand that he's having a bad day the beans could spill and my secret would be tangled in a brother's feuds. I'll be an input in one of their fights, where's the romance in that? Inuyasha will never see me as a potential girlfriend, Sesshomaru must absolutely never know.

"A mix-up huh," I heard him say as he bend down to my level. "A bit nosy too I might add," he said as he eyed his letters in my hands.

"Here!" I hastily shoved them in his chest, and picked myself up to dust off my skirt. I've had enough embarrassment for one day, and with that said in came my poor excuse for an apology, "I didn't mean it," I said. "Really, had I known this was your locker," in that brief second we exchanged glances, "I would never have opened it."

I spoke nothing but the truth, and judging by his loss or words I settled with the impression that he understood it truly wasn't my intention to put each of us in this rather confusing predicament. I gathered my school bag, unaware of his lingering gaze, and bowed respectively; jerk or no jerk he was still my Senpai. "Forgive me for the trouble I've caused," I told him, and soon I began making my way to the exit while he in turn gathered his own belongings together.

I still couldn't believe I had mistaken his locker for Inuyasha's. I remember spotting my crush rummaging through this locker once before, however; looking back on that moment he was probably pulling a prank of some sort just to get under Sesshomaru's skin. I also couldn't believe I had talked to Sesshomaru Rumitashi; I guess there really was a first time for everything. It may have only been a chance accident, but still I can't imagine such an opportunity ever making its way to me again. I'll probably never talk to him anyway so…

"Your jacket," he suddenly spoke, catching me right as I was nearing the double doors.

"Huh?" I wondered, not expecting him to keep me any longer than necessary, "Pardon?"

"Where's your jacket?"

"M-My jacket," I mused, even more bewildered that he even cared to know. "I forgot it," I lied, after all what business was it of his finding out how I came to no longer possess it?

"That was careless," he bluntly remarked, making me puff up in frustration. I just had to remember to keep walking away; maybe one day I'll grow the backbone needed to spit back at that pretty face of his.

I walked till the wooden floors beneath my shoes turned to cold concrete, and my arms almost immediately wrapped around my body. It was cold…when did this happen? I hadn't realized how dark it had become; my little escaped with Mr. Tall, Dark, and Scary must have taken a longer time than I thought.

"Careless _and_ unprepared," Sesshomaru continued to mock me from behind; both annoying yet delectable to the ears, never once did I think such a voice existed. "The weather report this morning predicted that temperatures would drop by nightfall," he, for some reason, felt the need to mention.

"I see," I said. "I don't really have time in the mornings to watch that stuff," I told him, not knowing why I bothered continuing our conversation. I began wondering if it had anything to do with how well the situation turned out in the end. I trusted Sesshomaru wouldn't report me to the school even though, given my circumstances at the time, he had every right to have me expelled. No detailed explanation, no request that I beg on hand and knee for his forgiveness; he simply took my petty apology and let the whole thing go.

"I'll keep in mind to watch it when I can," I smiled at him, thankful that he wasn't as pretentious a guy as I often envision him to be.

"Goodbye Sesshomaru," I wave from the edge of the sidewalk, never once expecting the reply he gave back.

I suddenly felt sheer warmth cover the goosbumps on my arms; material softer than a feather and warmer than any blanket I've ever owned settled on my chilly body. Upon twisting my head I came to realize it was his jacket draped over my shoulders.

"Goodbye Rin," he said to me as his strides continued crossing the pavement while the arm that previously held his jacket waved me farewell. My body stiffened beyond comprehension, and I felt a lump gather in the middle of my throat. My fingers clutched the end of his jacket like a lifeline; I no longer felt so cold…it must have been from his jacket…it was very warm…

He said my name…

He knows my name, I thought; the words repeating in my head over and over till I could no longer see him walking over the horizon. It then truly hit me like a brick to the head, I had his jacket!

"Wait!" I called out, though my efforts were pointless.

Regardless of how happy I was to know I wasn't quite as invisible as I had assumed, I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling of wearing something so…Sesshomaru's. It made fleece dwindle in comparison to the comfort it gave me, but still I didn't want anyone getting the wrong idea. I'll return it to him tomorrow, and then maybe I can try this whole thing over again.

Inuyasha's locker must be somewhere in that room and I'm determined to find it. Luckily, there's no need in rewriting that three-page long letter; the letter expressing my love down to the least intricate detail. The letter with my name neatly imprinted under the flap of the envelope, and three little heart drawn on the front surface. The letter I could not find in my book bag!

"Where is it?!" I freaked; my hands searching my bag till nerves had me flip it upside down to allow its contents to spill on the cold cement below. Books, papers, pencils, occasionally a piece of gum or two; in the end no letter. "It's gone!" I bellowed into the wind, how could this have happened?

Where could it have….Suddenly the scene of a careless schoolgirl shoving an arm full of letters into the hands of an egotistical schoolboy hit me harder than an anchor plunging down into the sea.

"SESSHOMARU!"


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Thanks so much for the reviews everyone! Each comment means a lot to me, especially since I honestly did not think this story would do as well as it's doing, and I hope not to disappoint in any of the future chapters. Hope you all enjoy!**

_Disclaimer: I own none of the Inuyasha characters. _

_**The Man Gambling My Live Away**_

"I'm home," I announced once my shoes were properly placed off to the side of the wall, and the familiar scent of smoke invaded my nostrils. If the smell was that strong it usually meant one thing. "Dad," I called out, and once I slid the door open I was greeted with the casual scene of a man with slick, black hair sitting near the TV; cigarette in his mouth and eyes glued to the race horses on screen.

This was a typical afternoon for him, and without any further disturbance I respectively bowed at my mother's picture on the coffee table, and made sure the incense near the frame were well lite. "Rin," I heard him say, "That you?"

"It's me," I answered as I placed my bag down, flung a familiar jacket off onto a chair, and strolled into the kitchen to prepare dinner. I did all, if not most, of the cooking around here. I'd like to think I'm pretty decent at it; dad seems to enjoy it so I guess that adds something to the short list of things I don't suck at. I thank my mother for my skills in the kitchen; she used to teach me when I was young. For some reason toys just didn't seem to appeal to me as much as it did other kids and mom always had a way of making every little task fun.

She was a smart woman and nobody could make a meaner plate of curry than she could; she carried the skills of a thousand chefs and her dishes always had a way of putting a smile on someone's face. She left me all her recipes in a book I keep in one of the drawers. I can't count how many nights I felt it saved us from having nothing but plain rice for dinner.

"Miso sound good tonight?" I asked, already reaching for the ingredients in the fridge.

"We had that last week, let's try that new Italian restaurant down the street," he interjected.

"We don't have money for that," I explained; I couldn't stress that fact enough to him.

"Then meat and potatoes it is."

"We don't have enough money for that either!" I slammed my hand against the counter, upset that my tummy now cried for the hearty taste of meat.

"What about all the money I made last week?!"

"You lost it when you went betting on the horses!" I exclaimed; the turmoil that was my life stared me right in the face as me and my father kept on in one of our everyday money related arguments. This was my life…sweet, sweet life.

If you weren't clued in by the dispute my family doesn't have a lot of money, in fact we barely have enough to put what little food I can spruce up on the table. My father is a good man, truly he is even if I sometimes doubt that statement myself; I know deep in my heart he loves me like any father would. Still though…I had to learn at a young age that money talks, and sometimes it draws in even the most reliable of dads and makes them seek out the next best bet rather than keep his family's income steady.

For that reason we argue like this on a daily basis, but it never lasts long. I make a proper point, and he falls asleep half way through my sentence; most of the time it's usually because he's drunk and thus sleeps through everything. He could literally sleep through a storm; which no thanks to his ignorance towards out leaky pipes and broken windows I've often felt like we have in the past.

"Damn that Totosai, going off and telling me a lie like that," my father cursed as we sat at the low eating table near the TV, having our evening meal.

"I hope you've learned a lesson from this," I lectured, "You can't trust people at those races; everybody wants to win it big including Mr. Totosai, so don't go blaming him when you shouldn't have been there to begin with."

"It's his fault you know," he replied, clearly not listening as he gulped down another cup of sake, "If I had just gone with my gut instincts my horse would have won, and we'd be eating at an Italian restaurant right about now."

I sighed into my soup; absolutely nothing I say would ever get through this man's thick skull. I don't know why I even put in the effort to talk some sense into him; if he didn't bother listening when his gambling problem first started, he definitely wasn't going to lend me an ear now.

It wasn't always like this, he wasn't always like this.

I do remember a rare time in my life when money was modestly abundant, and life was spent worry free. My father was a successful business man and my mother shinned brighter than any other memory I have of her. If I remember right I must have been around nine or ten at the time. We had a cozy house in the middle of a friendly neighborhood; ironically enough I was shy even back then. It wasn't a bother though; I still had a few friends and two parents that never failed to tell me how much their only daughter meant to them.

Then came the day I lay witness to my mother being put in a hospital bed for the first time, and my father crying in her lap for over a half-hour. He told me that my mother was very sick, and that she was going to have to stay in the hospital for a little while till she gets better. Till she gets better…I felt like laughing over those words…I mean, did he really honestly she was going to get better….

I remember most of the months that followed were spent by my mother's bed. Her demeanor had changed no matter how much she claimed she was "just fine"; even a ten year old could tell she wasn't.

Things weren't any better at home either. Father's success in his business was starting to decline which led to him being stressed almost every minute of every day. Looking back now I'm more than convinced it was all the medial bills that had him turning his occasional shot of alcohol to a few cups a day, he even obtained a cigarette habit.

He hated himself for putting us in so much debt, and I'm sure mother wasn't happy knowing it was her illness that took my father down such a stressful path. I know I wasn't the only one who hating seeing her the way she was, so pale and fragile, but unlike me father found an alternative that took the pain away, if only for a brief moment.

Through a spark of luck he won a hefty amount of cash at the horse tracks one summer, and the money started taking care of those medical bills which led to less stress on his shoulders, and made mom happy. Her attitude brightened and despite her condition the hospital decided to send her home, having nothing more they could provide for her. She was finally home, and though her routine still consisted of her in bed I was happy to be able to serve her the little meals that I was able to prepare.

You'd figure things would get better from there, but they only got progressively worse. Father considered his lucky win as some sort of sign from heaven, and quickly grew a gambling habit. Horse tracks, game rooms, sports, cards; everything became a bet to him. His business went completely to the ground, and he was home less often. Mom tried to convince him to change his ways, but every reassuring smile he gave her only covered up just how strong his addiction had spread to both his mind and body. Suddenly both my parents became ill in my eyes, and a year later it only became one…

Mom passed away a little after my twelfth birthday; the cancer finally catching up to her.

Her funeral was nice as far as funerals go; all her friends attended and helped pitch in to buy her a headstone. She now has a beautiful grave full of flowers that bloom her favorite colors.

The rest is pretty self-explanatory; after four whole years dad still hasn't changed, and I've grown looking at my mother's reflection more and more through the mirror. When I think about how much I resemble her I consider myself lucky on a multitude of points. My alcoholic father has never once laid one finger (sexual or not) on the daughter that looks like the wife he mourns from time to time. For that I consider myself lucky; at least he has better self-control than other men out there despite what little will-power he has towards saving his cash. I know there are other girls (even boys) that have far more to deal with in these situations than I do.

I only have to worry about money, high school, and let's not forgot the sneaky bastard that has my love letter…no big deal I have his jacket, but I don't exactly consider that an even trade.

"Maybe I'll up the rent on that liar," mumbled my dad as he slowly began to drift into sleep with his head on the table.

"Don't do that," I warned while gathering the dishes together, "He's one of the rare tenants that actually pays his rent on time, so don't push him."

Since mom's death and dad's first business failure we've now come to own a small apartment complex, not to mention live in one of the rooms. Dad was able to pull some strings with old friends and they offered him this small, two-story building as a sign of their continuous friendship. Some friendship though, the place looks older than sliced bread!

Yeah, I'm sure at some point in time it looked nice; like maybe thirty years ago. Now it looks just as much a mess as the rest of the neighborhood does. I went from living in a nice neighborhood near the city to a rinky-dink apartment on the bad side of town. Can't complain too much though, no other tenants here really do. Not too many people other than us live here, and those who do I'm sure have just as much, if not more, to complain about than us…well at least most of them.

There's Totosai, the eccentric old man who lives on the lower level. He seems like a nice old guy, and aside from continuously asking to see my underwear (which I decline venomously) he almost always pays his rent on time. Then there's a group of men all living under one roof on the upper level. Their apartment is probably in the worst condition of them all, and stinks to high heaven. Never once have they paid their rent on time but it just so happens that they drew dad in with their weekly poker games; for that he considers them "friends" so he'd never kick them out. Between the medicine woman and her older son, the single mom with her young daughter, and the creepo that lives right above us who I've never seen come out of his room (probably a druggy) there's no other tenants in this complex.

I popped open a trash bag, ready to clean up the stack of beer cans and cigarette buds on the floor. Dad had fallen asleep not long after we finished eating, which was typical for him. After the family room was cleaned and the dishes were washed I gently placed a blanket over him, knowing he was going to sleep like this the whole night. In addition, I placed a glass of water near him knowing he'll be severely thirsty upon waking up, not to mention a bit hung-over.

My friends reprimand me by saying I give far too much to the man who hardly gives anything back, and though I sometimes believe that to be true I just don't want to lose another parent. I've felt that pain before, and to this day it still remains; I just don't want to cry like that again. If my father's drinking habit worsens who knows what'll happen if I'm not here to make sure he makes it home every night from the bars, or takes his vitamins to keep his heart healthy, or cook his everyday meals.

I don't want to see his name imprinted on a headstone like moms, because that's when reality will sink in and then I truly will be all alone. Why go through all that when, with my help, he could possible live a very long life.

I sighed, it isn't exactly the life of glamor, I know, but it's my life and I'm trying my hardest to make the best of it. With that thought of determination lingering in my head I finally retired to my bedroom, ready for the long day awaiting me tomorrow.

* * *

"Cousins?" I mumbled against the toast in my mouth. I have cousins? I know I shouldn't be too surprised, but other than a few distant uncles I had no clue there was other family members out there.

"Yeah Higarashi…something like that," Dad groaned as he rubbed his hung-over head, sipping at the warm tea I recently made him, "Your mother had a cousin she grew up with, used to talk about her all the time. Now the woman's all grown with kids of her own; she was even at the funeral but I doubt you remember…hell even I can barely remember," he said before lighting his morning cigarette. I almost wanted to laugh at the dizziness in his eyes and the hand that tried so desperately to stop the pounding in his head. You reap what you sew, and the scene before me was a prime example. Maybe next time he'll thing twice before having so much to drink before bed…but I doubt it.

"Well, what about them?" I asked as I finished up my breakfast.

"Lady called me up yesterday; said she had a daughter that was around your age, and is going to be attending the same school."

"Wait," I interjected, "Do you mean my aunt from America?" It suddenly dawned on me; not long after my mother's passing I received numerous phone calls from a woman living overseas; she claimed to be like me mother's sister and wished for me to move to America with her and her family. I remember she used to persuade me by telling stories of her daughter that was around my age and a cute little boy. I suppose she was worried how my life would progress while in the hands of a gambling alcoholic, but I was already going through a major change in my life and at the time I thought the whole idea of me moving to another country was just silly so I denied her request.

"She's not your aunt," he yawned, "She's your mother's cousin; they just grew up in the same household. They probably saw each other more as sisters than anything else."

"So, her daughter is going to be attending my school?" I asked, a tad apprehensive over the whole situation. I could only imagine what my aunt…ugh….second cousin (whatever) would do if she found out dad hasn't really changed his ways.

"Yeah Higarashi something…" he answered as he stretched out on the floor, "By the way…"

I watched as he pointed to the white and red jacket on the chair near the kitchen, "Whose is that?"

I nearly dropped the plate in my hands, "I'm just holding it for a friend," I quickly answered; gathering my school bag with haste.

"That's a boy's jacket," he commented, "Too big to be a girls'."

Seriously! Of all the things he's too hung-over to not notice, like our leaky ceiling, he just all of a sudden decided to notice the random jacket on the chair; he's never once even sat on that chair!

"What's this all about?" I head him growl from behind, I could feel the squiggles of anger erupt from his body. "My Rin wouldn't happen to have a boyfriend now would she? "I sighed, it was moments like these that made me remember I had a dad in my life; a man who's supposed to panic over the thought of his daughter having relations with another male other than himself.

I glared back humorously, playing the typical teenage role. After all it was times like this that reminded me who I really was. A teenage girl and it also reminded me that my father truly did cared; even if it was in an irritating way.

"Maybe," I smirked.

I saw the anxiety shoot from his eyes like a rocket, and before I knew it my typical setting once again changed into a hectic morning when I laid witness to my dad running laps around the apartment complex…having no other way of dealing with his daughter growing up than to just run off the excess alarm.

The scene almost made me laugh, as did something else…boyfriend…

Me and Sesshomaru…Ms. Skinny, Awkward, and Clumsy with Mr. Handsome, Bright, and has my love letter!

That's right, and I have his jacket…only problem is I have no idea how I am going to go about getting what I want back while getting rid of the soft material on my shoulder. It had to be done though, this was so wrong. I like Inuyasha, not Sesshomaru.

With a big breath I set my sights forward on what I assume to be along…extremely long day of school coming up.

**AN: Longest chapter yet, but I can't promise they'll all end up this length. I apologize for no Sesshomaru; I don't exactly plan out my chapter I just write what sounds right in my head, and finish where I think is a good place to finish. Hope everyone enjoyed, and comments are welcomed. Thanks and till next time! **


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